


Trust

by insomnislack



Category: Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomnislack/pseuds/insomnislack
Summary: Why do no one else notice? How could he be the only one? (Vague mentions of TF:A story lines but mostly takes place in TF:P. Reposted from Quotev.)





	

To hear Optimus pacing the main room of the base was far from a foreign occurrence. The mech never did recharge well as of late and thus would saunter down the hall and into the large room where Bumblebee figured he'd try to wear himself out. Surely Optimus would have stopped this nightly ritual the first night if he had known that the young scout would lie awake and count how many times he'd make it from one end of the room to another, unable to rest knowing his leader was distressed.

Bumblebee never found it in his spark to bother the mech. Optimus deserved time alone as well, and if he hadn't gone to Ratchet with his "insomnia" then clearly he did not want to be bothered about it- Bumblebee would respect that.

Even as the sleepless nights evolved into a quiet whimpering fit.

Was Bumblebee really the only one who could hear it? Those large pedes, only able to belong to Optimus, would make it to the main room. He'd hear the mech shift, moving around, until suddenly there was silence and the gradual uproar of whimpering.

It wasn't like Optimus to express much emotion at all let alone to completely fall apart the moment the others went to recharge. He wanted to believe that Optimus was above such things, immune to the pressure and pain. He didn't want to feel a little let-down by the fact that his idol wasn't as high and mighty as he'd thought- But no. He wouldn't think such things. Optimus would say nothing negative about them acting like he was. In fact, he'd probably say that the real strength in a mech was the ability to show that they were not just strength. Yes, Bumblebee concluded. Optimus was stronger for showing his feelings.

And he would be even stronger to admit them.

Every morning Bumblebee would subtly check on him. Little bleeps and bloops of concern, whirrs of question, exvents of sadness... Optimus always checked out in the morning. He never seemed distressed or recharge deprived. Perhaps he was just that good at hiding his strain? Perhaps he did not want to talk about it even still- Bumblebee would respect that.

Even as sleepless whimpering fits evolved into nightly routine and opportunistic outrage.

How could he hide it so well? How did no one ever hear him walk around at night? How did no one ever hear him cry in the early hours of the morning? Were they all just "respecting" Optimus' space and pretending that he was still as strong and not broken as before? Bumblebee thought this to be true. Bumblebee thought that perhaps he was overreacting.

Bumblebee thought wrong.

When Ratchet and Bulkhead left to haggle with Starscream, Arcee and Jack had to go to Jasper, Smokescreen and Wheeljack were out training-- When all that was left was Bumblebee and Optimus-- Bumblebee knew he was wrong.

The climb from Optimus' cool demeanor to out of control was anything but subtle. As he leaned against the railing near the monitors for support and began to grunt, then hiss, then shout. As he threw his helm back and screamed to the ceiling, servos clenching the railing so tightly he snapped it, as he ripped the railing from the concrete and threw it in a random direction Bumblebee knew he was wrong.

He whirred in confusion and tried to calm Optimus down, servos up as his beeps and boops made no sense, even to him. He honestly didn't want to hurt him and he was panicking- Unable to think. But when blue optics were dark and his lips were pulled downward in a snarl Bumblebee knew he had to use force.

Optimus began to wildly swing at Bumblebee, groans and screams filling the air and burning themselves into Bumblebee's memory banks. This was not a side of Optimus that even Megatron saw, he was sure. The way his leader looked absolutely dead- A zombie ruled by rage and hate- he was certain he'd never forget it just as he'd never forget trying to kick and punch at the mech.

Within moments Optimus had Bumblebee pinned. He simply stared into Bumblebee's wide optics, snarl turning upward into a grin that seemed impossible and painful while Bumblebee stared back into the sockets that should have held a blue light.

Bumblebee could feel himself shaking and venting heavily, terrified to the core of the monster his leader so suddenly had turned into, and only felt himself be filled with more and more fear as Optimus' faceplates came so close to his own he could feel the other vent. The mech invented for a long moment, letting it out purposely into Bumblebee's faceplates while he chuckled darkly.

"She was like you once," Optimus' voice came- Gravely, raspy, gross noises as his glossa moved around in his mouth. Bumblebee's optics became even wider as Optimus' servos found their way to his neck cables and began to squeeze. Try as he might, all of the kicking and flailing in the world wouldn't have been able to get the mech off. Optimus was strong but this was something even more powerful than he could have imagined.

Bumblebee's vents couldn't draw air and he began to panic for his life now, optics flickering while static came from his mouth.

"She trusted me." Optimus used his other servo to grab Bumblebee's own servo, gripping it so tightly that Bumblebee feared it would break. "And you know what?" Optimus was now so close his helm ridge met Bumblebee's, optical sockets centimeters away from Bumblebee's flickering, glitching optics.

Bumblebee didn't want to answer. He just wanted to get away. He could feel his spark pulsing rapidly which proved that his chances of being offlined were high. He tried again to struggle, to move, to do anything, but he could hardly even find the strength at this point.

"She was wrong." The servo that held Bumblebee's so tightly spun and pulled Bumblebee's own back, breaking the joint and causing Bumblebee to cry out in bursts of static and whirring just as the sound of a groundbridge filled the room.

In seconds he was free, Optimus across the room by the broken railing, Ratchet and Bulkhead entering, and Bumblebee still on the floor.

When Ratchet asked him what happened, he simply replied, "I fell."

Optimus said nothing.

Bumblebee began to beg to go on missions, to leave, to be anywhere but at the base.

The routine of him going to his own berthroom to listen to Optimus first walk down the hall, go to the main room, kneel down, sob, then proceed to pace the room was getting to be too much. The routine of hiding from the mech every time he was alone with him, too, was starting to wear on him.

And what did he mean? 

"She was like you once. She trusted me. She was wrong." The words echoed in Bumblebee's processor day in and day out. The only femmes he knew were Arcee and Airachnid. Arcee had never known Optimus before Earth and Airachnid hardly saw Optimus, or any of them for that matter. Bumblebee thought it over while laying on his berth, optics staring at the ceiling as he tried to understand Optimus. Another night of waiting for his leader's routine, another night of wondering if he should tell Ratchet and risk being told he was just crazy, a night were he rubbed his sore wrist-joint and listened for those pedesteps.

He began to feel some joy in the fact that at least the breaking of his joint was healing quickly but it was abruptly cut short when Optimus' nightly habits began. The pedesteps coming down the hall, the exventing- Then the pedesteps stopped. This wasn't normal. In the months that this had been happening this was far from normal.

And, dare Bumblebee think it, the pedesteps seemed to have stopped just outside his door.

Through the darkness in his room Bumblebee quietly sat up and looked toward the door, the metal just barely above the ground as usual. He could see the light under the door from the hall and two tell tale shadows lingering there.

He could feel himself begin to shake again, having grown to fear his leader, the dark, the unknown... Bumblebee was nothing but fear anymore. He felt he was comprised of cowardice and dread, observing the madness unfolding around him while everyone else lived obliviously.

The anxiety surrounding those shadows only heightened when he heard something outside his door, sounding like his lock being tampered with.

He quickly laid back down and went stiff, arms at his sides as he offlined his optics. He wouldn't acknowledge it- If the other's could live ignorantly then he could, too. He wouldn't acknowledge the lock opening. He wouldn't acknowledge it as his door slid up into the ceiling.

He wouldn't acknowledge that he'd looked at the camera feed for his room that night and saw Optimus standing in the door way, watching him until morning.

Despite feeling like he was invading the privacy of his friends he would watch their feeds, too. Not completely, just long enough to see if they, too, were bothered by the terrifying sight of Optimus standing at their doors all night.

Not one of them even stirred.

He envied them for being able to recharge thoroughly and not have to deal with this insanity. He envied them so much for being able to smile every day. He envied how they hardly even noticed that he was falling apart at the seams-Both him and Optimus. Why couldn't he be so inconsiderately oblivious to emotions and his surroundings? 

He was so aware, every night, of the mech standing in the doorway and watching. So aware of all the protocols he ignored when he deleted the footage. So aware of how ridiculous it was that he was trying to keep Optimus' good name intact while throwing his own sanity out the window.

And even more so was he aware of the fact that he must have snapped somewhere in all of this because after nights of being without recharge he burst out of his own room and stomped down to Optimus'.  
If they didn't hear Optimus before then they'd have to hear his own pedesteps now. They'd have to acknowledge that something, anything, was going on! He made it down the hall to Optimus' door and narrowed his optics at the lock before slamming his fist into it repeatedly. He could feel his metal begin to give, energon leaking through cracks and coating his servo until the lock gave.

He pried the door open, pulling up on the bottom of it and bending the metal before it finally gave and tore out of place. His denta were clenched behind his guard and he vented heavily and glared at Optimus who stood dead center in the room, watching Bumblebee. The blue of his optics was there, but he couldn't fool Bumblebee. Bumblebee refused to be hurt again, refused to be thrown around and made a fool.  
As Optimus began to ask questions, to voice concern for Bumblebee's servo, to back away as Bumblebee entered his room, Bumblebee refused to pretend that Optimus was okay and well and not the monster he had proved to be.

As he neared the mech his optics darted to pictures on monitors- Monitors which filled the room. Each monitor had a different picture- And to his horror most of them were Airachnid. He would explain it as most since some of them looked like Airachnid but were wrong in some ways. The femme in the pictures was pink, not black, and was a normal Cybertronian instead of the Spider-Cybertronian hybrid Airachnid was.  
But the similarities between the two did not escape Bumblebee. Nothing did, apparently.

"You have tortured me long enough!" He made out in beeps.

Bumblebee came within feet of Optimus, servos clenched while energon leaked from his dominant one. Optimus' optics were wide with concern as he watched the scout, listened to him.

"I cared about you. I trusted you." 

The more Bumblebee beeped the more concerned Optimus looked.

"What did you do to her? Did you watch her sleep, too? Did you break her servo?"

Bumblebee threw his arms out in gesture to the walls full of monitors, optics dangerously narrowed into an ominous glare that Optimus never wished to see on one he held so dear.

There were noises behind Bumblebee's back and he spun around to meet the confused optics of his team.

"You all have been so good about keeping quiet, haven't you? So good at pretending I haven't been getting hurt, losing recharge, so good about ignoring what's right in front of you!" The whirs that escaped his vocalizer echoed.

He watched as Arcee and Bulkhead gave each other a hesitant look.

He watched as Ratchet suddenly wasn't with them.

He watched as Smokescreen's faceplates simply read sadness.

The poor fool, he thought. He's only that upset because his idol's image was no longer this Godly being, immune to wrong and misery. Optimus wasn't the savior they'd all expected. Optimus wasn't made of what the other Prime's were- He was just a victim of opportunity.

Ratchet's arm suddenly came from behind him, wrapping around his neck as the other grabbed him around the waist.

"Now, Optimus!" Optimus ran around in front of him, optics clearly full of regret as he watched Bumblebee twist and thrash, the scout crying out before he plunged a needle, courtesy of Ratchet, into his arm.  
His struggling began to cease quickly after, Ratchet lightly holding onto the scout the keep him up as his entire body began to go limp. But Bumblebee didn't want to be near him. Ratchet, too, had betrayed him. As his optics began to dim, systems being forced into recharge, Bumblebee could hear Optimus' voice whispering in his audio receptor.

"I left her for dead."

The surprise that Bumblebee felt when his optics onlined flooded his thought. He recalled the events prior to his recharge and could still feel the ache in his arm from the needle. His typical thought process came back and he took in his surroundings in fear as he realized he was not at the base...but on the Nemesis.

"Have you extracted the files?" He heard a familiar and unwelcome voice ask. He tried to find the source, attempting to move his servos and pedes but to no avail. His ankle and wrist joints were secured by metal cuffs, holding him against the berth that stood at an angle. Turning his helm only got him so much of a look before it was painful so he gave in.

There was silence for a long time until pedesteps, a noise Bumblebee felt he should fear, came up from behind him. In the dark room he could make out Megatron as he came into view, standing in front of him.  
"You've had quite the ordeal, haven't you?" Why did he sound so pleased? Bumblebee struggled again, trying weakly to get off the berth. "It's all over, scout. We've gotten what we needed from you. I'll have Breakdown deal with you."

Bumblebee whirred in confusion, begging with Megatron as the mech made to leave.

"What is it? You're confused?" Megatron leaned in close to Bumblebee, red optics glaring into his own as he chuckled and braced himself by putting an arm above Bumblebee's helm. "You're not the easiest mech to get information from. We induced a state of insanity on your processor to weaken your mind so that we would be able to withdraw information from it. As an added bonus you're probably never going to be the same again." 

Megatron stepped away and left the room as his laughter bounced off the walls surrounding them, leaving Bumblebee alone with his thoughts and the sound of some triumph he didn't understand. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to understand.

When he suddenly heard Optimus' voice demanding his whereabouts he realized- He didn't want to be saved.

He trusted Optimus once. He'd never trust Optimus again.


End file.
